


to see you, or to kiss you, or to give you a call

by bbeanseu



Series: three's a family [1]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, Kid Fic, M/M, Pining, Texting, no beta we die like men, single parent binnie, whipped taek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:53:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26495191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbeanseu/pseuds/bbeanseu
Summary: Taekwoon couldn't have known that agreeing to take a lost little girl back to her dad would mean seeing Hongbin again.
Relationships: Jung Taekwoon | Leo/Lee Hongbin
Series: three's a family [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1960303
Comments: 19
Kudos: 58





	to see you, or to kiss you, or to give you a call

**Author's Note:**

> shel: leobin parents  
> me, breaking down the door: listen. 
> 
> title is from falsettos the musical, "the baseball game." enjoy!!

There’s nothing, Taekwoon thinks with much exasperation and sarcasm, that compares to waiting for someone at a crowded park thirty minutes after the agreed meeting time. He checks his messages again, glaring at his phone screen when he sees that there are no new messages from Jaehwan; he’d expected as much. There had been no vibration, no chime indicating he’d received a new message. And Jaehwan has the tendency to lose track of time, quick to be distracted. Taekwoon wouldn’t put it past him to forget to update Taekwoon either; he’s done it before.

_ Hurry up or I’m leaving _ , he quickly texts anyway, sighing in annoyance as he once again pockets his phone and picks up the book he’d set aside when he’d checked his phone. At least he’d had the sense to bring the book, assuming earlier that Jaehwan would probably arrive late.

Five pages, he decides. Five pages and Jaehwan isn’t here, Taekwoon’s leaving.

His phone buzzes in his pocket— probably Jaehwan, apologizing and saying he’s on his way. Taekwoon’s feeling petty, so he ignores it, focusing instead on searching the page for where he’d left off. Taekwoon slips his earbuds in, leaning back against the park bench as he loses himself back in the book.

“Mister?”

Taekwoon stills, his focus faltering at the slightest. He swears, he can almost hear—

“Mister?”

A child’s voice jolts Taekwoon out of his reading. With a startled blink, he closes the book again, to see the—

Kid standing in front of him, a little girl, barely reaching up to his knees. She blinks up at him with wide doe eyes and small lips screwed into a small pout, small hands stuffed into the pockets of her shorts. She can’t be more than four or five, Taekwoon realizes, and before he knows it he’s setting his book aside.

He can’t just— ignore her, he thinks, especially when she looks like that, her lower lip quivering and her eyes glassy like she’s five seconds away from crying. Taekwoon’s heart immediately melts, worries about Jaehwan all but forgotten.

Taekwoon tries to remember Minyeol. He summons the tender gentleness that comes like second nature when he has to deal with his nephew, careful not to upset the fragile balance of a child’s heart, this child— who is probably lost and whose parents are probably worried sick and who would probably start crying the moment he does something wrong. In a soft voice he asks, “Do you know where your parents are?”

At his words the girl’s lip seems to tremble even more, shoulders shaking as her watery eyes spill over and a tear starts rolling down one cheek, then another, then another— Taekwoon feels panic begin to swell in his insides. This isn’t Minyeol. This is a stranger’s kid, about to start crying in the middle of a public park and however much Taekwoon loves kids he’s not equipped for this and there’s a five year old girl about to start crying and oh God—

Okay.

Okay.

Taekwoon has to breathe. Taekwoon has to calm down, take control of the situation. He needs to help her. He quickly squats down on one knee, making soft shushing sounds and watching carefully as the girl stops sniffling, chubby fists coming up to clumsily wipe at the tears gathering in her eyes. Taekwoon glances around them, searching for whoever might be a concerned parent looking for their child, but he finds none.

Okay.

Taekwoon can do this.

With a small smile that he hopes looks friendly and not scary, or weird, or awkward, Taekwoon asks, “Are you lost?”

The kid stares at him for a long moment, blinking her large, glassy eyes, and nods. Taekwoon nods back, exhaling through his nose. Okay, that’s a start.

“Do you know what happened?” he presses further, careful. The kid sniffles again, cheeks bunching up like she’s about to start wailing, and Taekwoon prays to God that she doesn’t, he doesn’t know if he can handle it—

She doesn’t, only says, in a quiet, five-year old voice, “I can’t find my dad.”

Taekwoon can feel his heart break, at that exact moment. The kid looks so helpless, so lost, looking around and stomping her feet with the childlike frustration of a five-year old, her little fists shaking and her eyes bloodshot and looking about ready to flood with tears at any moment. So he just nods and smiles, “Then what about we go find your dad, hm?”

She nods three times, each one more eager than the last, and he sends her one last comforting smile before standing up.

Taekwoon gathers his book in his hands and looks around, searching the immediate crowd once more for anyone who even looks remotely like the kid next to him. She’s so  _ small _ — she’s not even as tall as his knees— and Taekwoon fights the paternal urge to scoop her up and gather her in his arms like he would to his nephews. He doesn’t think that would be very appropriate, not when he’s a stranger.

Once again, the crowd comes up empty. They’ll have to search the whole park, then.

“Don’t stray from me, okay?” he tells her, and she nods, walking closer to him. She’s clinging a little to his pants leg, and was it a more appropriate situation Taekwoon would melt at the sight. As it is, though, he only disregards it, adjusting his strides and walking slow enough so that she can keep up. She drags her little feet along, twisting her head around and squinting at the people around them.

“Do you see your dad anywhere?” Taekwoon asks her. She shakes her head and presses herself closer to his leg, but at least she isn’t crying anymore. Small mercies.

After a few minutes of walking they pass an ice cream truck, and her eyes light up like she’d just seen Santa Claus. She tugs on his pants leg, staring up at him unblinkingly with wide doe eyes, the sight so adorable Taekwoon has to fight not to coo. “Ice cream?” she asks.

It takes more effort than should probably be necessary to say no to her. “You can get ice cream with your dad,” Taekwoon says, grimacing inwardly when she begins to pout.

“He never lets me have so much ice cream,” she mumbles, her cheeks puffed. She looks down at her feet, her little red shoes, and Taekwoon feels an irrational pang of pain stab through his heart.

“Well, he’ll be very happy to see you,” Taekwoon says. “Maybe he’ll even buy you lots of ice cream.”

“Maybe,” she mutters, but she’s smiling again, nodding to herself, “Lots n lots of ice cream!”

Taekwoon can’t help but smile at the sight of it. Something hits him, at that moment, and he stops in his tracks, the little girl coming to a halt right after him. She furrows her eyebrows, a confused frown on her face.

“What’s your dad look like?” Taekwoon asks, feeling slightly stupid for not thinking of asking until right at that moment.

The little girl seems to brighten at the question. “Daddy’s real tall,” she says, standing on her tiptoes and reaching up as far as her arm can stretch. “Like this tall! But taller! He has really pretty eyes and these!” She pokes at the sides of her cheeks, her smile still wide. “Uncle calls them dim— dimples. Uncle also says he has too many teeth, like a shark.”

Something inside Taekwoon lurches at the description, but he quickly pushes it away, shaking his head. It can’t be. “Okay,” he says, more to distract himself than anything. Task at hand. He has a lost child to return to her dad. “Tall. Dimples. Looks like a shark. We can—”

“Areum!” someone shouts.

The girl whips around, eyes wide and smile splitting through her face, before she’s bounding away. “Daddy!”

The voice comes from behind. It cuts through Taekwoon’s words, Taekwoon’s thoughs, Taekwoon’s soul. Cold dread washes over him, at that moment, consuming from the inside out as he turns around to see—

A man. Tall, like the child— Areum, he thinks to himself, her name is Areum— described him to be. He’s tall and broad, his jaw square and his eyes doe-like and so similar to the little girl’s. He comes running up to them, out of breath, hands on his knees as he bends down so he can be at his daughter’s level. He doesn’t seem to have noticed Taekwoon, too busy squatting down so he can pull the child into a hug, before pulling away and squishing her face between his hands.

Something chokes out of Taekwoon’s throatㅡ an ugly, shocked noise. It feels like his heart has stopped beating in his chest and has lodged itself in his throat. Areum’s dad doesn’t hear him.

“Princess,” he chides. His voice is deep, a warm sort of timbre, but there’s a pout that’s soft and sweet and tugging at Taekwoon’s heartstrings like a long-forgotten melody. “I told you not to go too far.”

“Sorry,” Areum mumbles, shifting her weight from one side to another, fidgeting with her fingers behind her back. “This person helped me find you, though!”

Areum says it in such a bright, cheerful voice, but Taekwoon can barely hear it over the pounding in his own ears.

“You know what we said about strangers,” the man says. His voice is sterner now, but it still holds that softness, that sweetness. Areum only pouts. Her father only smiles and ruffles her hair, finally standing up and turning to address Taekwoon, who’s been standing there gaping like a deer caught in headlights.

“Thanks for bringing her back. I don’t know what I would’ve done if…”

He trails off the moment he sees Taekwoon’s face. Their eyes meet— his eyes are such a beautiful rich brown, Taekwoon realizes, the image of them stealing the breath from Taekwoon’s lungs in one fell swoop. And for a long moment it feels like time has frozen, like the world around them is moving in slow motion and they’re both trapped in their own little bubble, seventeen again, seeing each other for the first time.

The smile on his face goes stiff, twists into a grimace before he snaps his gaze away, and the illusion is broken. It shouldn’t hurt. It hurts, anyway. Taekwoon swallows the lump in his throat, ducks his head and steps back, “Well this has been—”

“Taekwoon,”

Taekwoon stops in his tracks with a sigh, but he doesn’t look up again— can’t bring himself to. “Hongbin,” he says back, his voice scratchy, faint.

His heart is thundering in his chest, a 16/4 beat. Hongbin doesn’t say anything more. He’s still. A statue. People always called Hongbin a statue, pretty and perfect and quiet. Taekwoon shakes the memory away and shoves his hands in his pockets.

“It’s been a while,” Taekwoon says.

“Yeah,” Hongbin mumbles. He’s not looking at Taekwoon either, bending down so he can pick his child up, carry her in his arms—  _ God, _ Hongbin has a kid. It feels like some sort of fever dream. Hongbin’s never wanted kids. Hongbin’s never  _ liked _ kids. But here he is, with a little girl that is undoubtedly his child, with a mouthful of teeth and the same eyes and the same smile. God, Hongbin is probably  _ married _ .

_ He hasn’t got a ring,  _ a quiet voice says in the silence of Taekwoon’s head, traitorous— and Taekwoon shuts it out.

“Seven years,” Hongbin adds, soft voice breaking him out of his thoughts, and Taekwoon’s head snaps up. Hongbin flashes him a tired smile when their eyes make contact again, before turning away. “Give or take.”

“You have a kid,” Taekwoon says, dumbly. A kid. Hongbin has a  _ kid _ . This child is  _ Hongbin _ ’s kid. Hongbin is carrying her and playing with her hair and calling her princess. Hongbin. A kid.

Hongbin laughs. It sounds hollow, strained, and it makes Taekwoon wince. “Yeah,” Hongbin says, grinning wryly. “I guess I do.”

“Daddy,” Areum whines, wriggling in Hongbin’s grip, and at that moment Hongbin’s forced smile turns genuine when he turns his head to his pouting daughter. It’s sun-bright and breathtaking and beautiful and just as Taekwoon remembers it, and it feels as if something cold has a vice grip around Taekwoon’s heart. 

“What is it, princess?”

“Can we get ice cream?”

“All right,” Hongbin says, pressing a small kiss to her hair, and she cheers. Hongbin looks up at Taekwoon, the smile lingering even as the look in his eyes turns a little pained. He purses his lips and shifts. “Do you… do you want to maybe come with? Just to— thank you, I guess. We can catch up.”

It’s clear that Hongbin’s only saying it to be polite, to appease Areum who’s looking between him and Taekwoon with a small pout. There’s a small grimace in the corners of Hongbin’s lips, a guarded plea for Taekwoon to say no in his eyes. Taekwoon’s almost tempted to say yes, but his phone buzzes in his pocket once again that exact moment, and he takes it out to see that Jaehwan’s already gotten there.

“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “I have— plans. Raincheck?”

He pretends the blatant relief in Hongbin’s expression doesn’t sting. Hongbin gives him a number that both of them know Taekwoon won’t text, and then he flashes Taekwoon one last small, subdued smile before leaving with his daughter in tow.

Taekwoon watches them disappear into the crowd, then sighs, heading back to the park bench where he’s sure Jaehwan is waiting.

* * *

“You’re acting weird,” Jaehwan tells him later that day, as they’re eating lunch together. Taekwoon raises both eyebrows at him.

“Am I…?” he asks, as if he isn’t fully aware that he’s been spacing out the entire time they’ve been together today. Jaehwan narrows his eyes at him. Taekwoon almost curses himself; Jaehwan’s loud, talks too much, enough for the two of them. He’s almost always buzzing with excess energy and it’s almost too easy to forget how observant he is.

“You are,” Jaehwan says, but he doesn’t push. Taekwoon likes that about him. He doesn’t nag, doesn’t pry, unlike how Hakyeon tends to.

“I just didn’t sleep much, I guess,” Taekwoon says. Jaehwan doesn’t call him out on his bluff and just shrugs, quickly segueing into a whole new topic altogether, his mouth working a mile a minute. Taekwoon pretends to listen, nodding at the right parts, reacting as much as he’s expected to. If Jaehwan notices, he doesn’t bring it up again.

* * *

Taekwoon manages to keep it to himself for a few weeks.

He doesn’t mention anything to Jaehwan or Hakyeon, even as the number sits innocuously in his phone, staring up at him almost mocking whenever he opens his contacts, thumb hovering over the screen as Taekwoon internally debates whether or not it was worth it.

Whether or not it could result in them falling back together, like bumping into each other in the park was some sort of twist of fate and not just pure coincidence.

Taekwoon has always been a bit of a romantic, he admits. He’s always believed in fate and clichés and happily ever afters, settling down, committing. It’s one of the things he and Hongbin had never really agreed on.

Hongbin had been fickle. Hongbin hadn’t wanted himself to be bound to something, to someone. He hated being spoken for. He hated being told what to do. He wanted to go on crazy trips and wanted to make stupid, spontaneous decisions and that had scared Taekwoon.

And now, Taekwoon thinks bitterly— now Hongbin has a kid. He wonders if the Hongbin he knew is still in there, somewhere. Seventeen years old and scared and hiding underneath a false bravado. Nineteen years old and crawling out of his shell, little by little. Twenty years old and prickly and unpredictable and defensive.

He wonders if he knows this Hongbin at all.

Sometimes, in the middle of the night, he looks at his phone. He stares at the numbers and the blank message history as if willing Hongbin to text first. He knows it’s silly; Hongbin doesn’t even know his current number, but Hongbin’s always had a penchant for surprising him, and those little flickers of memories he has left are what doesn’t stop his stupid heart from hoping.

* * *

Hakyeon, as Hakyeon is wont to do, finds out about it eventually.

“You didn’t tell me you and Hongbin were talking again,” he says one evening. Taekwoon freezes. Jaehwan and Hakyeon are looking at him, their gazes intent, curious— Taekwoon’s cheeks redden and he looks down. He stabs a piece of meat with his fork and doesn’t look at either of his friends, stubborn to a fault, embarrassment rising like the flush in his ears. 

It’s silly. He doesn’t even know why he’s avoiding it, or being all defensive about it. It’s not like anything happened between them. It isn’t like they’re back together.

_ But you’d like to be _ , says that small, traitorous voice that lurks at the back of Taekwoon’s mind, ready to strike at every quiet moment. He ignores it. It isn’t as if both of them haven’t already moved; it’s been nearly a decade, for fuck’s sake, and that’s longer than the few years their relationship had lasted. No matter that Hongbin had been the love of his life. No matter that every other relationship thereafter had always ended badly for Taekwoon.

Besides. Hongbin has a kid. And is probably married or in a relationship or something. Not that Taekwoon has put much thought to that. Not that he cares. He doesn’t.

He and Hongbin hadn't been good for each other.  _ Aren’t  _ good for each other. So what if seeing each other seven years later had ignited some long-forgotten spark he’d thought had gone off long ago?

Taekwoon thinks he’s too old for this.

And yet.

“We aren’t,” Taekwoon hisses under his breath.

“Hm,” Hakyeon says, his voice infuriatingly neutral as he purses his lips and looks at Taekwoon.

Taekwoon scowls at him. He wants nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow him at that particular moment. “We just— bumped into each other. The other day.”

Jaehwan gasps, hand slapping over his mouth. He looks scandalized. “Hyung! You met Binnie and didn’t think to tell me?”

Taekwoon reddens even more, squirming at the attention. “I barely saw him.”

“It’s been so long,” Jaehwan sighs, sliding off the couch and onto the floor. He’s so dramatic that Taekwoon can’t help but roll his eyes, despite himself. Then suddenly Jaehwan’s straightening up, a sharpness in his eyes as he jabs an accusing finger in Taekwoon’s direction. “So that’s why you were acting so weird.”

Taekwoon wants to melt into the floor, not in the good way.

“Jaehwannie,” Hakyeon says, putting a chiding hand on the youngest man’s shoulder. Jaehwan looks up at him, and Taekwoon watches as they have a whole conversation between themselves without words as lovers tend to do. Watching it, with his old wounds reopened and tender and still stinging, Taekwoon can’t help but feel a bitter. He and Hongbin used to have that. Hongbin. Whom he’d broken up with seven years ago. Someone he’d thought he’d forgotten.

Clearly he hadn't, Taekwoon thinks, a little spiteful. Clearly his heart had only buried him and them and the memories somewhere deep inside and now they've been dug up to the forefronts of his mind where he can't run away. Taekwoon banishes the thoughts the best he can and tries to focus on his food.

In the end, Jaehwan seems to lose their nonverbal argument and sighs, slumping back against the sofa. “You’re right,” he says. “Why are you always right?”

“Because I’m me,” Hakyeon says with a self-assured smile. Jaehwan only shrugs at that, shifting until he’s seated properly on the sofa once again.

“How’s he doing, by the way,” Jaehwan asks. Hakyeon promptly smacks him, and Jaehwan yelps, collapsing onto Hakyeon’s lap and moaning like he’s dying. Taekwoon’s lips twitch at their shenanigans. He allows himself to smile for a brief moment before his expression turns somber again; thoughtful.

“He was well, I guess.” Taekwoon swallows. “We didn’t really think to catch up.”

Silence rings between the three of them before Jaehwan ducks. His cheeks are dusted pink. “Right,” he says. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Taekwoon says. He doesn’t feel very fine at all.

* * *

It had been raining that day.

Neither of them cared to bring an umbrella— they hadn't even known it would rain. It had started out as such a sunny day and suddenly there they were standing in the middle of the rainstorm, drenched and cold and unable to give less of a fuck. Taekwoon was soaked, shivers rattling him to the bone, but they both knew it wasn’t from the icy cold of the downpour.

“I'm sorry,” Taekwoon said, voice drowned out by the heavy rain.

Hongbin looked at him, then. His eyes were red-rimmed, and the raindrops rolling down his cheeks were mixed with the tears until Taekwoon couldn’t tell which was which anymore. His hands were trembling. His mouth was stretched into a smile, but it was so horribly empty. It didn’t light up his eyes like it normally would.

At least it wasn’t a sunny day. At least he didn’t have to hide his tears; he could let them stream freely down his face and nobody would’ve been able to tell the difference.

Hongbin laughed. It was cold, cutting. It was an ugly sound that made Taekwoon shudder with disgust and regret down to the core. “You’re joking,” he said, still with that same disbelieving smile, still with that manic desperation in his eyes. “You’re— you don’t mean that, do you?”

That had been the only time, Taekwoon thinks, that Hongbin had ever been fully sincere with him. Hongbin always seemed to be guarded, always hid behind sunshine smiles and dimples and his bright brown eyes, never baring himself enough for Taekwoon to love— all of him, even the ugly parts that Hongbin hated with all of his soul. It’s just a little ironic, Taekwoon supposes, in the most heartbreaking sort of way, that the only time he sees Hongbin at his most vulnerable is when they’re breaking up.

“We don’t—” Taekwoon choked on the words. There was a lump in his throat that felt like his heart, and he clenched his fists. No backing out. “We don’t  _ work _ together, Hongbin.”

“We work fine,” Hongbin said, shouted— fingers balled and shoulders rising high and the tears in his voice made Taekwoon want to crumple down and apologize, take it all back, hold him in his arms and run a hand through his hair. Taekwoon felt like he was suffocating, like his heart was being crushed into tiny little bits and pieces and the pain was almost too much to bear.

“We don’t, Hongbin.”

Nothing more needed to be said. The words rang between them, louder than the crashing raindrops. Both of them knew it was the truth.

A strangled sort of noise escaped Hongbin’s throat, and then he was falling to his knees on the concrete, back hunched, eyes on the ground. His whole body trembled, his hands clutching his thighs for support, and Taekwoon didn’t think before he was kneeling there before him, putting a hand on his cheek, lifting his head up gingerly.

Like this, Hongbin looked so unbearably  _ small _ . His hair was sticking to his forehead, and his face was pale, and with the way he was drawing himself in it looked like he was trying to make himself disappear. His skin was freezing to the touch, but it was fine— Taekwoon was sure his skin was just as cold.

And then he started sobbing.

Sobbing as Taekwoon pulled him into a hug. Sobbing and sniffling and crying into Taekwoon’s chest, hot tears mixing with the rain. Taekwoon held him until he quieted down, held him until both their tears ran dry.

“I love you,” Hongbin said, his voice scratchy, broken, weak.

Taekwoon kissed him one last time. “I love you too,” he murmured, “But we have to let go.”

The sky had started clearing up as Taekwoon was walking home.

The bitter, bitter irony, he thought.

* * *

“Taekwoon,” Hongbin says, standing in the middle of a Starbucks. His smile is still terse, but he doesn’t look about ready to bolt. Taekwoon stands there, arms uselessly at his sides, and tries for a wobbly smile.

It’s horribly cliché, bumping into Hongbin four weeks later at a coffee shop. It almost feels like a cruel joke being played on them by whatever deities exists Up Above. Still, Taekwoon swallows his anxieties, fighting the urge to run away. Or start crying. Or both. “Hongbin,” he says. His voice feels thick, like there’s cement coating the insides of his throat.

It isn’t fair. It isn’t fair that Hongbin’s here, acting civil, smiling at him no matter how hard it must be. Acting like Taekwoon didn’t split both their hearts in two and then violently stomped at their miserable remains. He doesn’t know if he’d prefer it if Hongbin screamed at him, shouted at him, punch him over and over again until it even vaguely resembled whatever pain they’d inflicted onto each other that rainy night.

But then, Taekwoon supposes, it  _ has  _ been seven years. Hongbin’s moved on— clearly—

Taekwoon doesn’t know why that thought stings him as much as it does.

“—should stay for coffee. I still have some time before work,” Hongbin is saying, and Taekwoon snaps back to reality. Hongbin’s not looking at him. He’s staring down, like his fancy polished leather shoes are the most interesting thing in the world. Taekwoon gapes. He doesn’t say anything. Hongbin carries on. “I mean— I just wanted to thank you, for the other day. I really am thankful. I don’t know what would’ve happened if—”

He cuts himself off, smiling almost shyly, still avoiding Taekwoon’s eyes.

Taekwoon finds himself opening his mouth, even when it feels like his brain has been drained of any coherent thought. “I really don’t—”

“Please,” Hongbin says, pursing his lips, swallowing. “I’d feel bad.”

Taekwoon doesn’t have much to say to that. It hits him that he still can’t say no to Hongbin, even now, seven years apart. He wonders if this is some sort of withdrawal. He wonders if absence really does make the heart grow fonder.

“Don’t overthink it,” Hongbin says, snapping him out of his thoughts once again. “I know you are. Just— I’m repaying you, okay? It isn’t much more than that.”

Oh. Of course. The words hurt more than they probably should, more than what is appropriate. Taekwoon nods and goes to find a table for them.

Hongbin doesn’t take more than a few minutes. The line isn’t that long, and the baristas are fairly quick. Still, Taekwoon appreciates the little bit of silence he has to himself, not having to worry about the anxiety of having to face Hongbin, to spend several minutes in his presence trying and failing to make small talk all while ignoring the elephants in the room, far too many to count.

“You might break the table in half from gripping it too hard.”

Taekwoon nearly jumps in his seat. He whirls to the side, scowling. Hongbin only smiles. It’s still shaky around the edges, but it isn’t as stiff as it had been earlier.

“You scared me.”

“You shouldn’t get so lost in your head,” Hongbin shrugs, and for a moment the smile is almost teasing, but that flash of mischief is gone so soon that Taekwoon’s sure he must have imagined it.

He’s holding two drinks in his hands— both Ventis— and he sets Taekwoon’s down on the table before sitting across him, taking a sip from his own beverage. He doesn’t look at Taekwoon as he does, eyes set on a wall, seemingly reading the words painted across it. “I don’t remember your Starbucks order,” Hongbin mutters. He’s biting the straw. “Sorry.”

Taekwoon tries the drink.

Hongbin had lied. Taekwoon doesn’t call him out on it.

“It’s fine,” he says instead, smiling a smile that feels way too big on his face. “It’s good.”

Hongbin only twitches his lips a little in response, taking another sip.

The silence that permeates between them is thick and heavy and awkward. Taekwoon finds the words he wants to say trapped in his throat. Hongbin looks almost— bored, except he isn’t. Taekwoon can still see his tells. Can see the way his hands twitch and the way he catches the straw between his teeth and the way his eyes flit around the room, landing on anywhere but Taekwoon. Nervous, skittish— scared. Trying.

“Areum,” Taekwoon blurts out before he can stop himself, and for the first time since they’d sat down Hongbin looks at him. Taekwoon can’t get used to it— can’t get used to the way every time their eyes meet it’s like they’re meeting for the first time again. Can’t get used to how Hongbin still looks the same but also leagues different— eyes harder, almost; the softness of his jaw and cheeks gone, his hair cropped short and swept neatly to the side instead of being an unruly mess of curls swept up into a barely-stable bun. The air about him is different, too. More mature.

Of course it is; it’s been seven years.

They’re not seventeen anymore, Taekwoon has to remind himself, or nineteen, or twenty. They’re fully-realized, fully-grown men.

“Areum,” Hongbin repeats, like he’s reminding Taekwoon that he was about to say something.

“She’s… yours?”

Hongbin grins, all teeth and dimples. “I’d like to think she is, yeah.”

Hongbin’s humor hasn’t changed much, Taekwoon thinks. Still dry and snappy.

“She’s cute,” Taekwoon finds himself saying, and Hongbin’s smile softens at the thought of his daughter. His daughter, his daughter, his  _ daughter _ . It’s still surreal to think about, honestly.

“She is,” Hongbin says. The smile doesn’t leave his face. “She’s— she’s everything to me.”

Taekwoon nods.

There’s a question, hanging at the back of his mind, chanted by the annoying little voice in his head.  _ What about the mother? _ Taekwoon asks himself.  _ Is she around? Are you married? Are you— _

But he has no right, asking those kinds of questions. He has no right prying into Hongbin’s personal life, especially since it’s been seven years since they’d last seen each other, since Taekwoon had broken Hongbin’s heart, and God, it’s so pathetic of him hanging to threads like his and Hongbin’s relationship can be salvaged when he’s the one who burned bridges in the first place.

“Her mom isn’t around,” Hongbin says dryly. “I know you’re dying to ask.”

Taekwoon’s cheeks flush. “Am I that easy to read?”

A look passes in Hongbin’s eyes, like he’s debating saying something, but in the end he just shrugs. “No, people just tend to ask.”

“Ah,” Taekwoon says, and then the unbearable silence is back again. They go back to their drinks, unspoken words hanging in the air, both of them too scared to say anything.

Randomly, Taekwoon remembers, “Our first date was at a Starbucks.”

He sees Hongbin freeze up and immediately regrets saying anything, opening his mouth to take it back, but then Hongbin laughs. It’s not strained, not forced, just a little sad and almost nostalgic. “Yeah,” Hongbin says, shaking his own Venti cup, the ice inside clacking as he does, “You and your crippling caffeine addiction.”

“I still have that crippling caffeine addiction,” Taekwoon says, almost snippy. “And it’s better than your penchant for hot leaf juice.”

Unexpectedly, Hongbin laughs. It rings in the air, musical and warm and  _ real _ , and for that one fleeting moment they’re seventeen again, smiling shyly at each other across a Starbucks table, sipping their drinks and sharing jokes and basking in each other’s smile.

But then Taekwoon blinks and he’s twenty-nine to Hongbin’s twenty-eight, awkward and careful and trying to maneuver a conversation without cracking open old scars.

But this is nice, actually— this is really nice.

“What are you even up to these days?” Hongbin asks. He’s long since finished with his drink, and Taekwoon’s just about through with his, but neither of them mentions it. Taekwoon sips whatever remaining coffee there might be trapped between the ice cubes before giving up, setting the sad, empty Venti cup onto the table.

Taekwoon shrugs. “I’m a music professor at a university. Songwriting on the side,” He says it with a small voice, shy, warmth rushing to his cheeks when he catches the awed expression dawning on Hongbin’s face. “It’s not— a big deal. I like it.”

“That’s great,” Hongbin says, and the genuine note in his voice makes Taekwoon’s heart sing.

_ Be still _ , he tells himself.  _ Be still— there isn’t anything there anymore. _

“What about you?”

Hongbin grimaces, scratching the back of his neck, “Took over the business. I’m a CEO now, I guess.” He forces a small, sarcastic  _ “whee” _ to go with it, looking nothing short of tired.

Taekwoon opens his mouth, but Hongbin shakes his head.

“Don’t say— I didn’t have a choice, okay? And I had my daughter to think about, and—” Hongbin stops, runs a hand through his hair, his mouth still twisted. “And it’s boring, yeah, but I live with it. Why am I telling you this?”

“Hongbin—”

“No need to pity me, Taek,” Hongbin says, leaning back against his chair. “I’m a hotshot CEO now.”

“Yeah,” Taekwoon says.

Hongbin’s phone buzzes. He makes a face and moves to check whoever’s calling, rejects it, and then sighs. “I have to go.”

“Of course,” Taekwoon says. “Thank you.”

“No,” Hongbin says, “Thank you. Always fun to have a cup of coffee and talk about my kid with my ex-boyfriend.”

Taekwoon cringes. Hongbin just grins again.

“Is your number still the same?”

“Huh?” Taekwoon says, not quite believing what he’s hearing.

“Your number,” Hongbin repeats. “Is it… still the same?”

Taekwoon shakes his head, scribbles his new number onto a paper napkin and hands it over. Hongbin looks at it, then at Taekwoon, hesitant, considering—

“I’ll… text you?” Hongbin asks, so soft and unsure Taekwoon barely catches it.

“…Okay,” Taekwoon says, before he can stop himself, “And Hongbin?”

Hongbin stalls, looking questioningly at him.

“You can— if you need help with Areum—”

Hongbin smiles. It isn’t as empty anymore. “Thanks, Taek.”

And then he’s leaving.

* * *

Taekwoon isn’t expecting a text.

He isn’t expecting anything. Especially not anything from Hongbin, who said he’d text him, who he broke up with years ago, who probably secretly hates him with a passion, now.

“Why are you staring at your phone like that?” Hakyeon asks, raising an eyebrow. “Like you’re scared it’ll grow legs and crawl away.”

“I’m not staring at my phone like that,” Taekwoon says, his eyes still resolutely set on his phone. The screen doesn’t light up with a new message, or doesn’t vibrate or chime. Taekwoon knows it won’t. Taekwoon knows it’s illogical to think that Hongbin would text him. Why would Hongbin even text him, anyway? It isn’t like they’re suddenly friends again, all of a sudden. They’re just fleeting barely-acquaintances. They’re just two strangers now, grappling at faint afterimages of people they used to know.

Or maybe it’s just Taekwoon thinking that way. Maybe Hongbin doesn’t even care.

He stares at his phone, and nobody texts.

* * *

Taekwoon's phone buzzes when he's writing a song at three in the morning. 

Maybe writing is too loose a termㅡ he's mostly just been staring at his composition notebook, jotting down lines before scratching them out, tapping the end of his pen against the paper ntil there's a big black ink blot staining the previously pristine sheet. 

The new message is a welcome distraction. He puts the pen aside and reaches for his cell, the glare of the screen harsh in the dim lighting of his office. There, staring up at him, is Hongbin's name, the contents of his text hidden. Taekwoon swallows. He considers it for a long moment before his curiosity gets the better of him, thumb swiping over the fingerprint sensor to unlock his phone.

_ From: LHB _

_ Taekwoon. _

Taekwoon stares at it. And stares. He presses his lips into a thin line. He doesn't know idea what it means. He has no idea how he could possibly reply to that. 

His fingers shake as he presses them to the keys, his movements slow; hesitant. 

_ Hongbin _ , he types, and presses send.

He stares as the little check mark appears on the message he sent. Stares as Hongbin starts typing, and then stops, and then starts again. He stares at it for what feels like an eternity, before he sighs and turns the screen off and puts his phone down.

He's about to reach for his pen again when his phone vibrates once more.

_ You answered. _

_ You texted,  _ Taekwoon types with his hands still trembling and his breath trapped in his lungs. His bottom lip catches between his teeth, and he gnaws on it absently as he watches the little dots appear once again.

_ I almost didn't,  _ Hongbin tells him. The words hit Taekwoon like a punch to the stomach, but he ignores it, ignores the sting in his chest. Stupid of him, Taekwoon thinks. He shouldn't feel so hung up. Hongbin's got no obligation to text him.

Another message comes in, before Taekwoon can even move his fingers.

_ Why are you even awake at 3 am? _

_ Writing,  _ Taekwoon answers with a huff. He leans back against his chair, notebook and pen and barely-started song pushed to the back of his mind. There's a pause between them.

Hongbin asks,  _ A song? _

_ That's the idea _ , Taekwoon says, unsure if the mess in front of him could even be considered one.

_ Lol _

Taekwoon can almost imagine Hongbin's snort. Taekwoon can almost imagine the small, dry smile on his face, the blue light of his phone illuminating his face in the darkness. Taekwoon doesn't let himself.  __

Taekwoon's missed this, he realizes. He's missedㅡ he's missed easy conversations with Hongbin, missed his humor, missed the song of his laughter ringing in Taekwoon's earsㅡ and now it's. Almost here. Close enough to see and yet too far to actually reach.

_ I missed you,  _ Taekwoon types out, but he smashes his thumb on the backspace button in rapid succession until the message is gone completely. Instead, he texts,  _ Thanks for the coffee.  _

_ Don't mention it,  _ Hongbin tells him, and the conversation ends there. Taekwoon doesn't let himself feel like it's a blatant dismissal, even when it so clearly is. He turns his phone off for good now and goes back to his writing, and if he writes about hazy nostalgia, of lingering memories that he can barely grasp, vivid compared to the fog of everything else that used to beㅡ well. Nobody has to know. 

* * *

There was the muffled crashing of rain against rooftops. There was the rumble of thunder, the stroke of lightning flashing across the sky, glum and pitch-black with storm clouds and fog. Taekwoon stared out the window and listened to the pouring rain. His comforter was wrapped tight around his frame, but it did nothing to shield him from the cold.

It’s been raining a lot recently, Taekwoon thought to himself. Three weeks of heavy rainfall, on-and-off. If Taekwoon hadn’t known better he’d have thought it was some sort of sick metaphor for his life. Like breaking up with Hongbin had sucked away all the sunshine, leaving him with nothing but the rumble of storm clouds in his chest, the aching cold and gloom of the rain.

But of course it wasn’t that. Hongbin might be gone, but the world would still turn and the sun would still rise every morning and the dark grey clouds would clear, eventually, even when it felt like Taekwoon would be trapped in the same stormy night for the rest of the foreseeable future. 

It almost felt like a mockery. It felt like he was waiting for something he didn’t even know. He wondered how long he would stay this way, like he was trapped in time, like he was stuck sitting in his room waiting for Hongbin to come over unannounced like he usually would, acting like he lived in the place even when they never actually formally moved in together. He watched as mist fogged up the glass and as raindrops gathered on the surface. He barely heard the creak of the door opening, and, with his heart in his throat, he turned— breath held, hopeful—

But it was only Hakyeon, peeking in from behind the partly-opened doorway, slivers of light spilling from outside and onto the floor. Taekwoon tried not to feel disappointed but Goddamn did it hurt, Goddamn did it feel like a knife being driven into his chest, like a shredder tearing his heart apart.

_ Stupid _ , Taekwoon thought to himself.  _ Of course it won’t be him, you’re so fucking stupid— _

“Woonie,” Hakyeon said, and sighed, stepping into his bedroom. Taekwoon looked away, returned to staring out the window, watching as the rain relentlessly fell. Hakyeon’s footsteps echoed in the quiet bedroom as he walked closer, and Taekwoon felt his weight on the bed when he sat. “Taekwoon. This can’t be healthy.”

Taekwoon didn’t say anything in response. He heard Hakyeon sigh. Taekwoon wanted to feel guilty. Taekwoon wanted to put on a smile for Hakyeon, to thank him for coming all this way, but there was an empty kind of exhaustion in his bones that pulled him back, so he kept staring out the window.

Hakyeon said, “I thought you might want some company.”

Taekwoon shrugged. He didn’t really know how he felt about that. He supposed— he didn’t really want to be lonely today, but Hakyeon wasn’t the company he was looking for. Hakyeon wasn’t— Hakyeon wasn’t broad shoulders and dimpled smiles full of teeth and the warmth that Taekwoon had grown used to, over the years. Hakyeon didn’t slot against him perfectly like Hongbin had. Hakyeon wasn’t—

Hakyeon wasn’t Hongbin.

“I brought food, too. It’s outside, if you want to eat.” Hakyeon’s voice was airy, like this was just some sort of casual conversation and not Taekwoon mourning the pieces of his shattered heart. But Taekwoon could see the concern in Hakyeon’s eyes when he dared to glance, and he had to look away. Hakyeon merely sat there, patient, as Taekwoon tried his damnedest to ignore his presence.

It’s not that he wasn’t grateful.

It’s just that it felt too much like a slap in the face, like salt was being rubbed on his still-stinging wounds.

So they sat there in silence, Taekwoon staring out the window, Hakyeon looking down at his lap.

It was Taekwoon who broke the silence first, and though his voice was faint and raspy with tears and disuse it felt loud, bouncing off the walls, ringing in his ears.

“I miss him.”

Hakyeon didn’t say anything in response, even as he shifted on the bed and pulled Taekwoon into an embrace. It was warm in his arms but it was all so  _ wrong _ . Taekwoon let his head hang, let a choked sob spill from his lungs, squeezing his eyes shut as if it would stop the tears from falling. Funny— he thought he’d run out of tears last night, when he cried himself to sleep, but it seemed they would never end.

“I miss him,” Taekwoon choked out, letting Hakyeon hold him into his chest. “Am I— Am I even allowed to, Yeonie?”

Was he even allowed to feel sad about it? He’d been the one to break it off. He’s been the one who put that look on Hongbin’s face, had been the one who said  _ we need to learn to let each other go _ . He’d been the one who’d put an end to everything they had. Was he even allowed to mourn it?

“Of course you are,” Hakyeon whispered, his voice silky-smooth as it lingered between them, as it wrapped around Taekwoon like the cocoon of warmth that was his arms. “Of course you are, Taek.”

“I love him,” Taekwoon said, and Hakyeon only held him tighter.

They stayed like that for a long time, just Taekwoon letting himself be held as the sobs fell away.

“You’re not alone, okay?” Hakyeon murmured when he was done, pressing his lips to Taekwoon’s hair, before brushing his bangs out of his face. “We’re here for you. Talk to us if you need to.”

Taekwoon nodded feebly and let Hakyeon baby him for another few hours, too drained to be stubborn, anymore. He let Hakyeon call Jaehwan over even in the pouring rain, let his two friends sit at either side of him on the too-small couch, order pizza, watch shitty lifetime movies on the old TV until the storm let up.

And for a few blissful hours Taekwoon let himself forget.

When his friends had gone, left the flat, left him alone to his the quiet of his mind and rain-gazing, Taekwoon let out a heavy sigh.

Hakyeon might have said that he wasn’t alone, he realized, but that didn’t make him any less lonely.

* * *

It takes a week before Taekwoon hears from Hongbin again— not that he’s counting.

_ Areum asked about you today _ , Hongbin texts him nine o’clock PM on a Saturday. Taekwoon almost doesn’t believe his eyes. He has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep the grin from stretching across his lips. His friends give him strange looks, and Jaehwan tries to steal a glance over his shoulder but Taekwoon is quick to hide it, rolling away from their curious gazes.

“Who’s that?” Hakyeon asks, brows rising up to his hairline, but knowing Hakyeon, he’s probably jumping to a hundred different conclusions right now.

“Nobody,” Taekwoon says, typing out a quick reply before he turns off his phone. He feels giddy, almost— he feels like a smitten schoolboy, discovering love for the first time in his life.

He’s a little scared, to be honest, but there’s a strange sort of excitement that outweighs that.

_ Was she?? _

He turns his phone off again when he’s safely alone, Hakyeon having to drag a sleepy Jaehwan back home. Hongbin’s replied.  _ Yeah. _

Under it, he’s added:  _ She’s under the impression that we know each other. _

Taekwoon pauses. 

_ Don't we? _

The moment he asks it, he regrets it. He watches the three little dots appear, disappear, biting his lip and fighting the urge to hit himself over the head.

_ I don't know, Taekwoon,  _ Hongbin replies, after what feels like a lifetime.  _ Do we? _

The words hit a little too close to home, and Taekwoon's mouth wrenches into a pained grimace. He stares at his screen, at the two simple words sitting in the little blue text bubble and wonders if he should even reply at all. 

_ Goodnight, Hongbin,  _ he texts in the end, letting Hongbin's question ring hover them, unanswered. 

_ Goodnight Taekwoon.  _

* * *

Texting doesn’t become a regular thing, after that. They don't stop entirely, but when they do text, the conversations are short and far in between, and their formal and painstakingly polite. Small talk. 

And both of them have always hated small talk, but here they are, resorting to it, dancing on eggshells around each other because every other step feels like a landmine. Tiptoeing on the shaky bridge they've formed between them because a wrong move could shatter it, could send them both falling again. 

Taekwoon hates itㅡ it feels stifling and fake and plastic, but at the same time he just can't let it go.

* * *

When Hongbin calls him for the first time, Taekwoon nearly has a heart attack. The standard ringtone cuts through the tranquil atmosphere of Taekwoon's apartment, and when he sees the Caller ID flashing across his screen he can feel his heart jump to his throat. 

He presses answer before he can even think, holding the phone to his ear. 

Hongbin's voice comes in a barrage of words,  _ “Oh, Taekwoon, thank fuckㅡ okay, sorry, this was out of nowhere, Iㅡ” _

“It's fine,” Taekwoon cuts in, before Hongbin can talk himself into a frenzyㅡ even if it doesn't feel fine at all. His palms are beginning to swear and his heart is beating in crescendo and he forces himself to breathe out before continuing on. “What's going on?”

_ “It's about Areum.” _

Taekwoon's heart drops and his stomach does a nasty flip. “What about Areum?”

“ _ Nothing bad _ !” Hongbin's quick to assure. He says something unintelligible, voice muffled and away from the microphone, but from the way his tone goes soft Taekwoon can only assume he's talking to his daughter. Then he's back to Taekwoon, “ _ Its justㅡ I have. Plans tonight and I'd asked someone else to look after her but he bailed on me and I couldn't think of anyone else and I don't trust sittersㅡ _ ”

“You need me to babysit,” Taekwoon says. He blinks. Hongbin's asking him to babysit. Hongbin trusts him enough toㅡ..?

“ _ Yeah _ ,” Hongbin breathes out. “ _ I understand if you say no, of course, I'll figure something outㅡ yes princess, hold onㅡ _ ”

“I'll do it,” Taekwoon says, words out of his mouth faster than he can think.

There's stunned silence between them, for a few beats, before Hongbin exhales in what sounds like relief. “Are you sure?”

“If it's for Areum,” Taekwoon tells him, voice soft.

“Yeah, Areum.” Taekwoon can hear the smile on his voice. “I'llㅡ uhㅡ I'll text you the address?”

Taekwoon nods, before he realizes Hongbin can't see him. “Okay,” he amends, quickly.

“Thanks, Taekwoon,” Hongbin says, before he hangs up. Taekwoon's left there once again in the quiet of his flat, wondering what the fuck he'd just gotten himself into.

Hongbin doesn't take long before sending him the address. Soon enough Taekwoon is standing at Hongbin's doorstepㅡ Hongbin's house is big, in one of the richer parts of the city, and Taekwoon feels a little out of placeㅡ with one finger hovering hesitantly over the doorbell. He bites the bullet and presses down on it, before shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans, anxiety thrumming underneath his skin.

He swallows down his nerves, shifts his weight from one foot to another as he waits. 

It doesn't take long for Hongbin to open the door.

“Oh, hey, you're here,” Hongbin says, a small smile on his face as he steps aside and opens the door for Taekwoon. Only one of his cheeks dimple. “Iㅡ uhㅡ make yourself at home, I guess.”

He's in a dark blue button-up and a suit jacket, his hair swept to the side, his slacks neatly pressed and sleek and the sight of him is enough to send butterflies fluttering in Taekwoon's stomach. He realizes he might be staring, so he quickly turns away, but the atmosphere between them has already shifted. It's a little less friendly now, a little more dangerous. Charged. Taekwoon swallows. 

Hongbin looks nice. 

He looksㅡ really nice.

“You look nice,” Taekwoon says absently as he steps in, before he realizes what he just said. Mortification floods himㅡ Hongbin's frozen in place, hand over the knob, and Taekwoon opens his mouth to apologizeㅡ

“Thanks,” Hongbin says, almost shyly, before Taekwoon can say anything.Taekwoon swears he can see the pink of a blush on his pale cheeks, but that can't beㅡ it's probably just the light playing tricks on him. It's probably just the wishful thinking.

Hongbin's leading him to the living room, both of them in total silence, neither knowing what to say. When Taekwoon settles on the couch, Hongbin asks him if he wants some water.

“No thanks,” Taekwoon says, and Hongbin nods, jittery once more.

Before the air between them can get even more awkward Areum is bounding down the stairs, yelling  _ “Daddy!” _ at the top of her lungs, dragging out the ‘y.’ She runs to them, purposely bumping into Hongbin's leg, and then breaking into giggles when she falls to the floor.

Taekwoon thinks his heart might melt.

“Careful,” Hongbin chides, bending down to help his daughter up. “You're gonna get hurt.”

Areum whines. “But I'm fine!”

“Yes but what about later?” Hongbin sighs, ruffling her hair again. She pouts but giggles into the contact, before her eyes find Taekwoon and she lights up, jumping, a wide smile spreading across her face. Her eyes turn into tiny little crescents and her plump cheeks bunch up and Taekwoon can see so much of Hongbin within her, at that moment, that it strikes this chord within his chest and suddenly he feels like crying.

“This is Taekwoon,” Hongbin's saying. “You remember him? From the park?”

“It's you!” she beams, jumping up and down, andㅡ since children have no concept of personal space whatsoeverㅡ she lunges forward to hug one of Taekwoon's legs. Taekwoon stares down at her, his insides turning into putty.

“At this rate she's going to like you more than me,” Hongbin says with a sigh, but he's smiling, and for once Taekwoon can find it in himself to smile back, warmth blooming in his chest.

“I wanna play,” Areum says, once Hongbin's goneㅡ with strict instructions that she should be asleep by nine. Taekwoon doesn't know how strict they are, actuallyㅡ he's sure Hongbin would let his baby bend the rules just a little bit, but Taekwoon doesn't want to risk it.

“Okay,” Taekwoon says, sitting on the floor across her. “What do you wanna play?”

They end up playing tag around the house, Taekwoon always letting himself get caught. Areum always looks about ready to throw a tantrum whenever Taekwoon catches her, but then she wriggles out of his grasp, giggling loud and carefree and blowing raspberries when she gets away.

Areum's passed out on the couch exhausted before eight thirty even rolls around. Snow White isn't even halfway through. Taekwoon can't help but smile fondly down at her, picking her up and carrying her to bed, pulling the blankets over her shoulders. He goes back downstairs and watches TV with the volume down low until Hongbin comes back, which isn't until well past eleven.

Hongbin looks genuinely surprised when he sees him. “You're still here.”

The statement feels like a jab. Taekwoon winces. Hongbin smiles dryly.

“Of course I am,” Taekwoon mumbles.

“Right, yeah,” Hongbin says, stalling at the doorway. He swallows. “She didn't give you too much trouble did she?”

“Just enough,” Taekwoon says, and Hongbin laughs, fond and soft and making Taekwoon feel all kinds of warm.

“Sanghyuk usually looks after her, but like I said. He bailed on me, so.”

Taekwoon looks up. “You're still friends with Sanghyuk?”

“Yeah,” Hongbin says. “Shikkie, too.”

They were there for him, Taekwoon realizes. They were Hongbin's support group, way back when, and they've stuck this farㅡ and the guilt is rising again, but he forces it down before it can ruin whatever this is between them.

Hongbin shrugs off his suit jacket and joins Taekwoon on the couch, and though the distance between them is only by a few inches it somehow feels like they're an entire ocean apart. Hongbin's stiff where he's seated, eyes locked on the TV, but his right brow is raised. “You were watching A Walk To Remember with my five year old?”

Taekwoon sputters, his cheeks hot. “Of course notㅡ we were watching Snow Whiteㅡ I justㅡ”

Hongbin carries on, “You totally cried in front of her too, admit itㅡ”

“Oh,” Taekwoon says, suddenly feeling petty, “Like you didn't cry when we first saw itㅡ”

When the words leave his mouth Taekwoon's scared he might have crossed the line, but then Hongbin laughs again, loud and unrestrainedㅡ the bass note of it bouncing off the walls and swinging at the chords of Taekwoon's heart, and before he knows it he's laughing too, grin stretched wide on his face, hand clutched over his stomach where it aches from strain.

And this is nice, Taekwoon thinks. This is great.

When they've calmed down, Hongbin has half slid off couch, head laid on the backrest and turned to the side so he can look at Taekwoon. Taekwoon's looking back, and Hongbin's still smiling, and Taekwoon's still smiling too.

And Hongbin is so...ㅡ

“How was your thing?” Taekwoon asks, breaking the tender ambience between them before he can do something he'll definitely regret.

The smile on Hongbin's face flickers, and Taekwoon nearly regrets it.

“It was fine.” Hongbin's got his eyes on the TV again. “Chansik's a great guy, but we both figured we'd be better as friends.”

Friends. The term bounced around in Taekwoon's head. Friends.

Is that what they are? Is that what Hongbin wants to beㅡ friends? The question forms itself in his throat, but he can't quite bring himself to say it out loud. He's a little bit anxious. He's a lot bit scared.

Finally, in a small voice, he manages to ask, “Friends?”

“Yeah,” Hongbin says, and Taekwoon knows Hongbin can hear the question in his voice. “Friends.”

When Taekwoon is about to leave, Hongbin stops him at the door. “She seems to like you,” he says, and Taekwoon blinks, nodding slowly.

“... I guess.”

Hongbin rolls his eyes. “Don't go fishing. You know she likes you.”

Taekwoon lets a small grin stretch across his face, giggling softly, and Hongbin smiles back, before his expression goes sheepish again.

“You can… come over whenever. To see her. She seems pretty attached to you.”

Taekwoon's fairly sure he's gaping. His heart swells. Hongbin huffs out a laugh from his nose. “Close your mouth. You're gonna catch flies.”

“Shut up,” Taekwoon says. “I'd love to.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Before he's even out of the building, he gets a text. 

_ thanks again for tonight. don't trip and die on your way home. _

_ ass _ , he shoots back, not even scared anymore, and when Hongbin replies with nothing more than an emoji he pockets the device, but he can't help himself from smiling all the way home.

And here's the thing.

The thing is that they  _ work _ ㅡ as friends.

Taekwoon finds himself coming over to Hongbin's place more often. Sometimes Hongbin invites him over, but sometimes he comes of his own volition as well. Sometimes Hongbin's there, and sometimes he isn't, busy with late nights at work and occasionally a date or two. Taekwoon tries not to let it get to him.

The texting picks up too. It's crossed the threshold of awkward small talk and stiff, stilted conversations, clumsily venturing into what feels like a shadow of their old dynamic as Hongbin's snark grows with his comfort.

It isn't anything more than a shaky friendship, but Taekwoon thinksㅡ this is fine. He can live with this. He can see Hongbin laugh, see Hongbin smile, see Areum's bright eyes as she runs around the room. And that's enough, Taekwoon thinks.

It's enough to stay this way. Friends. They're fine. He has movie nights with them, on occasionㅡ he gets to see Areum. It's a win/win situation.

And sure, there's still a lot of words left unsaid between them, still a lot of things Taekwoon wants to say but is scared to. Still too much pain than is probably appropriate. It isn't perfect, far from it, butㅡ

Taekwoon is fine, he realizes.

Taekwoon is happier than he's been in a long while.

* * *

“Are you going over to Hongbin's again?” Hakyeon asks him. Taekwoon's ears go pink. He should've known confiding in Jaehwan and Hakyeon was a bad idea, but it was something he couldn't keep away from his friends forever, especially with how nosy they could get. 

And admittedly, it had felt like a weight being lifted off his chest, but now he has to deal with their incessant teasing, as well as Hakyeon's almost overwhelming protectiveness.

“Yeah,” Taekwoon confirms, not looking at his friend.

“Are youㅡ”

“We're just friends,” Taekwoon's quick to correct, even if the words still sting to say out loud. Just friends. He knows part of him still longs for it, still believes that somehow they'll fall back into each other, but Hongbin's obviously moved on.

It's just that some part of Taekwoon hasn't. He's getting there. It doesn't hurt being around Hongbin anymore.

And Hongbin just wants to be friends, and Taekwoon will respect that. It's the least he can do after everything else. 

“Are you sure?”

“I'm sure, Yeon,” Taekwoon says firmly, but his shoulders are taut and his jaw is clenched. Hakyeon places a hand on his shoulder, and all the tension seeps out of Taekwoon's body.

“I just want you to be careful.”

“I broke up with him,” Taekwoon says, barking out a humorless laugh. “Remember?”

Hakyeon purses his lips. “You were still really hurt. I'm just worried.”

Taekwoon sighs, slumping against the wall, keeping his head ducked. He looks at Hakyeon with a weak smile. “I know, Hakyeon. I appreciate it.”

Hakyeon squeezes his shoulder, and Taekwoon lets himself be comforted.

* * *

Taekwoon finds the ugliest, most adorable doll he's ever seen when he's browsing the internet one night. It's made of cotton with sand inside it, and its skin is mint green and has mismatched buttons for eyes and its hair is ratty brown yarn. It's dressed in plain denim overalls and has stubs for limbs, and he immediately snaps a quick photo to send to Hongbin.

_ that's fucking hideous,  _ Hongbin texts back.

_ I know,  _ Taekwoon says, but he orders it anyway.

He gives it to Areum the next time he's over, and she cheers and holds it to her chest, chanting  _ “Thank you thank you thank you I love her her name is Greenie!”  _ before shoving it in Hongbin's face, squealing about how  _ she's so cute, isn't she, daddy? Uncle Woonie gave her to me and I'm gonna love her forever and ever and ever! _

And Taekwoon watches as Hongbin's eyes soften, as he rolls his eyes fondly and says, “She's adorable, princess,” melting when Areum only cheers again and runs off Greenie in tow, with the energy of a five year old child high on sugar.

“I can't believe you actually bought it,” Hongbin says with a groan, but his exasperation is ruined by the way his mouth is stretched into a grin.

“She's adorable,” Taekwoon protests, stubbornly, and Hongbin only rolls his eyes again and sighs.

“Whatever,” Hongbin says, shrugging, but his voice is so sweet and so tender. “She's happy, I'm happy.”

_ She's happy, I'm happy, too _ , Taekwoon thinks, but he doesn't dare say it. He just keeps looking at the little girl looking back at them from the open doorway leading to the living room, the little girl stomping her little feet and waving her little doll around. Then he looks at the content expression on Hongbin's face.

_ You're happy, I'm happy too,  _ Taekwoon realizes, and then he jolts and immediately locks that particular thought deep into the crevices of his heart before it can take root in his mind.

“Hurry!” Areum shouts. “Greenie wants to play hide n seek!”

“You heard the princess,” Hongbin says, bobbing his head in the direction of the living room, and Taekwoon feels his heart flutter in his chest. Feels it burst like confetti, colorful and sparkly and warm.

_ Oh no,  _ he thinks. Cold dread settles in his gut.  _ This is bad _ . 

Lingering feelings he can deal with. Nostalgia and unspoken words and lack of closure he can deal with. But thisㅡ butㅡ

“Taek!” Hongbin calls, turning his head. “You gonna keep gaping there or what?”

“Hold on,” Taekwoon says, voice cracking in his throat. Hongbin throws him a grin, dimpled and bright.

But at what point, Taekwoon wonders, did this start feeling like a family?

* * *

  
_jaehwannie:_

_hey_

_ you said hongbin's still friends w shik and hyukkie right?? _

_taek:_

_ Yeah _

_jaehwannie:_

_ omg _

_ i missed them so much _

_ wait omg _

_ ask him if hes cool to come over for dinner saturday _

_ hakyeon's been Planning _

_ we can hang out just like old times _

_ tell him to ask them too _

  
  


“Who's that?” Hongbin asks, his voice soft because Areum's on Taekwoon's lap, dozing off lightly. Taekwoon's eyes dart upㅡ Hongbin's fresh from the shower, his hair damp, his face bare and moisturized and his skin all soft-looking. His face warms, and he quickly looks at his phone.

“It's just Jaehwan,” Taekwoon says, and Hongbin lights up as he flops down next to Taekwoon on the couch, sinking into the soft cushions.

“Holy shit,” Hongbin breathes out, “I haven't seen Jaehwan and Hakyeon in seven years.”

“Where's that enthusiasm when we met,” Taekwoon says dryly, but Hongbin only makes a face at him. They lapse into comfortable silence, Hongbin leaning slightly into Taekwoon's space as he runs an absent hand through his daughter's hair. Taekwoon can't help but notice that Hongbin smells like fresh mint and lavender, like aloe scented shampoo.

“What's he say?” Hongbin asks, and Taekwoon's brought back to the present. He checks his phone again, somehow having forgotten what Jaehwan had said, too distracted by Hongbin next to him, by Hongbin almost leaning his head against Taekwoon's shoulder, arm stretched forward as he gently threads his fingers through Areum's curls. 

There's something so domestic and intimate about it, and Taekwoon feels trapped, not knowing if he should be happy or hurt. Not knowing if he should pull away or inch closer.

“Wants to know if you're free Saturday.”

“Is he sure his boyfriend won't mind?” Hongbin jokes, and Taekwoon rolls his eyes and bats at himㅡ or attempts to, anyway. It's kind of hard when he has a sleeping child on his lap. Hongbin cackles as he ducks away. 

“Are they still together, by the way?” he asks, once he's resettled on the couch.

“Them? Yes.”

“Wow,” Hongbin whistles, mouth forming a small o shape. “True love.”

Taekwoon looks down at Areum, mouth twisting into an awkward smile, the phantom bitterness gripping at his chest yet again. “Yeah.”

“Must be obnoxious.”

Taekwoon chuckles this time. “Kind of.”

Hongbin sighs out, letting the couch's fluffy cushions swallow him. “Why’s he asking, anyway?”

“Hakyeon wants us all to get together for dinner, apparently,” Taekwoon says. Hongbin nods along, not saying anything. “Says you should invite Wonshik and Sanghyuk too.”

Hongbin still hasn't spoken. Taekwoon turns to look at him. Hongbin's staring forward, his lips downturned, looking lost in thought. “Hey,” Taekwoon says, and Hongbin nods. 

“I think I'm free,” he says, still staring forward like he's seeing something that isn't there. Taekwoon frowns, but he doesn't say anything. Hongbin sighs, continues. “Do you think they'll mind? If Areum…”

Taekwoon's mouth falls open. “Binㅡ”

Hongbin shoves a pillow into his face. “Ugh, don't say it!”

Taekwoon pushes the pillow away, and his grin is so wide that it hurts his cheeks.

“I'll smother you,” Hongbin threatens, but it's not very effective considering he isn't looking at Taekwoon and that his face is cherry red. “I'll take away your visitation rights.”

Taekwoon's still grinning as he texts Jaehwan back.

_taek:_

_ Hongbin's free _

_ Can Areum come? _

_jaehwannie:_

_ areum? _

_taek:_

_ Hongbin's kid _

_jaehwannie:_

_ im sorry hongbins WHAT _

_ holy shit _

_ omfg _

_ yes!!! yes ofc!!!! _

* * *

“Jaehwannie said yes,” Taekwoon says. Hongbin sighs in relief. Taekwoon bites back a small smile, “Do you want me to pick you up?”

Hongbin's eyes widen. “You really don't have to.”

“It'll be convenient,” Taekwoon shrugs, trying not to think of it as a rejection. He isn't even lying; Hongbin's place is on the way to Hakyeon and Jaehwan's. Though Taekwoon has to ask himself how much of it is offered for the sake of convenience and how much is his own selfishness to spend more time with Hongbin. He quickly adds, “Wonshik and Sanghyuk can carpool too, if they want.”

“Sounds good,” Hongbin says, and Taekwoon swallows down a sigh. 

Saturday comes all too soon.

Hongbin opens the door almost as soon as Taekwoon rings the doorbell. The first thing he says is, “I think I'm overdressed.”

Hongbin's in a white dress shirt and fitted slacks and the sight of it makes warmth rise up in Taekwoon's stomach and face. Taekwoon doesn't know how he manages to speak, seeing as his breath has seemingly been snatched away, but he says, “Yes, you are.”

“Crush my hopes and dreams will you,” Hongbin huffs, stalking back inside. Taekwoon follows after him, stopping at the living room while Hongbin continues off to his bedroom. Areum's there to greet him, already dressed and smiling as she always is, practically bouncing in her little pink overalls when she sees Taekwoon.

“Uncle Woonie!” she grins, running up to him and tugging him by the arm. “Uncle Hyogie and Shikkie are here!”

It's then that Taekwoon notices Sanghyuk and Wonshik sitting on the couch, eyes wide, frozen, looking as surprised as he probably does. Wonshik's lifted his hand up to drink, but his cup has clattered down to the floor, spilling coffee all over the tiles.

Areum pouts. “Daddy’s gonna be mad 'bout that.”

“Holyㅡ wow,” Sanghyuk says. He looks breathless. “Taekwoon-hyung?”

Taekwoon smiles sheepishly. “Hi.”

He knows he'd been the one to suggest this, but now that he's here, facing Wonshik and Sanghyuk in person, Taekwoon has no idea how to feel. He hasn't seen them in seven years. They probably hate himㅡ they probably think he's a shit person for making Hongbin cry like that. What's he even supposed to say?  _ Sorry I broke your best friend’s heart and sorry I'm back in his life but hey I hope we can all be friends again _ ?

Taekwoon swallows. Sanghyuk looks all grown up, not the scrawny little twerp he was when they'd last seen each other. He's all tall and broad and big and Taekwoon's pretty sure he's about to cry.

“It's really you,” Wonshik says, sounding awed, and then he's standing up and pulling Taekwoon into a hug, squeezing tight.

“Don't worry,” Wonshik mumbles into his ear. “I'm still punching you later.” And Taekwoon laughs, the sound wet with tears. Then Wonshik is pulling back. In the background, Sanghyuk is feigning apathy, his hands shoved into his pockets, but his bottom lip is quivering.

“Idiot hyung,” Sanghyuk mutters. “I've missed you.”

“Hey,” Taekwoon protests.

Sanghyuk grins. “I'll give you the shovel talk later.”

_ Shovel talk,  _ Taekwoon mouths to himself, before it sinks in. He vehemently shakes his head, making an X symbol with his arms. “No, no, no, Hongbin and I aren'tㅡ”

Sanghyuk raises an eyebrow. Taekwoon deflates, just a little.

They're friends, his mind echoes. They're just friends. Just friends. Just friends.

“It isn'tㅡ” he tries weakly.

“What isn't,” Hongbin's voice cuts in. Taekwoon turns, just as Hongbin's walking into the room. His dress shirt was gone in favor of a plain white shirt, a black hoodie thrown over it, partly unzipped, though the pants stayed the same. Taekwoon feels the words die on his throat. Hongbin sends him a grin, cheeky. “Is this okay?”

Taekwoon can think of a thousand different adjectives.  _ Amazing. Gorgeous. Handsome. Beautiful. _

“You look nice,” he ends up saying, his eyes caught with Hongbin's own. “You alwaysㅡ look nice.”

“And you're always so mushy,” Hongbin says with a mild grimace, but he isn't breaking eye contact.

“You asked for it,” Taekwoon protests, his cheeks hot.

“You look nice too.”

Taekwoon's about to say more when Sanghyuk clears his throat, and whatever spell that had been cast between them seems to break. Hongbin coughs and picks Areum up, already looking at everywhere but Taekwoon, and he does feel a small twinge of bitter loss this time. “I think we're ready to go.”

“Yeah,” Sanghyuk says. “Yeah, definitely. Let's go.”

* * *

“You're here!” Hakyeon beams, throwing his arms around Wonshik and Sanghyuk like he'd last seen them just yesterday and not over half a decade ago. He squeezes them both into a bear hug, somehow, both of them sputtering for air by the time he pulls back. Taekwoon snickers to himself in amusement.

“Hyukkie!” shrieks Jaehwan, tackling them both. “Wonshikkie! It's been so long!”

Hongbin's the last to come in. He has Areum in his arms and his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes flitting anxiously around the room. Once they catch sight of him everyone goes quiet, breath held, like there's a string waiting to be snapped.

“Hey…” Hongbin attempts, trailing off awkwardly. He waves with the hand that isn't securing Areum from falling.

“Oh my God,” Hakyeon breathes out. “Oh my God is that her she is  _ so _ precious.”

And just like that it's like time has begun moving again. Hongbin puts Areum down before Hakyeon and Jaehwan can flank him too. Taekwoon watches on, a small smile on his lips. Areum goes straight to him, and he squats down and picks her up with ease. She giggles.

Dinner is a rowdy affair. They've toned it down a lot for Areum, but they're still loud, when it's all six of them, catching up on seven years’ worth of absence. Shoving food in their mouths as they exchanged jokes and stories, as they talked about growing up.

And Taekwoon had expected awkwardness. He'd expected painful silences and tiptoeing but Hakyeon and Jaehwan allow none of that. Like this, it's almost as if nothing has changed. It's like they're back to seven years ago, slotting with each other like pieces of the same puzzle. It feelsㅡ complete.

“God,” Wonshik says, over a mouthful of meat, “Seven years. Holy shit.”

“And you still haven't learned to talk with your mouth shut,” Hakyeon says even if his own mouth is full, like a hypocrite.

They talk and they eat and they laugh, and Taekwoon can't help but let his eyes wander every once in a while. Can't help but get lost in the way mirth makes Hongbin's eyes sparkle, the way his laughter echoes in the room and in the chambers of his chest and in the confines of his brain like a song he can't forget.

Hongbin catches him staring once or twice and he doesn't look away, doesn't tease, doesn't turn prickly or defensive. Instead he grins even wider, teeth and dimples and all, and Taekwoon swears he can feel his heart sing.

Taekwoon volunteers to make popcorn while everyone sets up the movie. They'd decided on something Disney, just to be safe. He can still hear their muffled voices from the living room all the way in the kitchen, and he smiles to himself.

“You look happy,” Sanghyuk says, making Taekwoon jump. He whirls around, hand over his chest, breath stolen from his lungs.

“Hyuk-ah,” he gasps out. “Holy shit.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Sanghyuk says with an easy grin on his face, holding his hands up in apology though he doesn't look very sorry at all. Taekwoon pouts at him before going back to the popcorn. He knows where this is going. He knows what Sanghyuk is going to say. Taekwoon keeps his eyes firmly on the microwave.

“Why aren't you with the others?” Taekwoon asks. He's aware that he's just delaying the inevitable, delaying the confrontation of his own feelings, but he can't help but be scared. 

He's twenty-nine. Why is he so scared?

Sanghyuk watches him set the timer for the popcorn. “I need to talk to you about something.”

Taekwoon barely refrains from running his hands through his hair in frustration. “If this is about Hongbinㅡ”

“Don't tell him I told you, but he's missed you a lot.”

Taekwoon stops, brain flickering off and words dying in his throat.

Sanghyuk shrugs, “And honestly he's beenㅡ happy. It's good for him. This is good for him.”

Taekwoon thinks it's supposed to be comforting, in a way, but all he does is make him feel like there's pressure being put on his shoulders, like there's a weight pushing down on his abdomen.

“So don't fuck it up,” Sanghyuk says, “Because you look pretty happy too.”

Then he returns to the living room, leaving Taekwoon to stew in his thoughts as he waits for the popcorn to finish.

When he rejoins the others, Hongbin is sitting on the loveseat With Areum. He distributes bowls of popcorns before joining him, smiling when Hongbin looks up in greeting. Areum excitedly pats the empty space next to her, and Taekwoon pinches her cheek before settling down.

“We're watchingㅡ” Areum starts, before she frowns. “What're we watching, daddy?”

“Lion King, baby,” Hongbin hums.

“Lion King!” Areum says gleefully, clapping her hands.

“Oh! Remember when you used to be called Leo?” Hongbin snickers as Taekwoon makes himself comfortable. Taekwoon shoots him a glare as an embarrassed flush flares over his cheeks, hand flying out to swat at him, and Hongbin only laughs and bats him away. “Scary Leo-hyung who never spoke. Ahh.”

“Stop that,” Taekwoon mutters, his face still hot and red as he pelts a kernel of popcorn at Hongbin. 

“Aw,” Hongbin says, teasing, but he doesn't say anything more. Taekwoon rubs at his cheeks and pops some popcorn into his mouth.

“Shhh!” Jaehwan hisses, his voice ironically loud. “The movie's starting!”

Halfway into the movie there's a weight on Taekwoon's side. He blinks; sees Areum dozing off against him, snoring softly. He looks at Hongbin, who seems transfixed on the Hakuna Matata montage, and lets himself smile.

“Hongbin,” he says, “Look.”

Hongbin tears his gaze away from the TV with a small frozen, before following Taekwoon's gaze to his sleeping daughter. “Ah,” Hongbin says, brushing stray strands of hair out of Areum's face. “Bedtime. I guess we should be going.”

Someone pauses the TV, and someone else turns on the lights. “Already?” Hakyeon pouts. 

“Areum fell asleep,” Hongbin shrugs, picking her up carefully and cradling her to his chest so she doesn't wake. She shifts in his arms and mumbles incoherently but stays asleep. Hakyeon sighs, looking wistfully at them, before surrendering. 

“Alright then,” he says, still with a forlorn look in his eyes. “Next time, though!”

“Next time,” Hongbin promises.

“I'll drive you back,” Taekwoon says, moving to stand.

Hongbin makes a noise of protest, but then Sanghyuk chimes in, “Yeah, go ahead! Wonshik and I will catch an Uber.”

“We are?” Wonshik asks.

Sanghyuk elbows him. “Yes, we are.”

Hongbin looks at both of then dubiously, but then Areum stirs once more and his expression turns defeated. He follows after Taekwoon to his car, their steps slow and careful, and buckles Areum in before settling in the passenger’s seat.

Silence stretches between them during the drive back, but it's quiet, comfortable, filled with ballads from Taekwoon's car stereo. Taekwoon keeps his eyes on the road, and Hongbin stares out of the window where a small drizzle has begun to fall. Taekwoon can't help but glance at him every once in a while. At the way his eyelashes flutter when he nearly dozes off, at the flush on his cheeks from the cold, at the expression on his faceㅡ so tranquil and peaceful and so much like home.

Taekwoon burns it into memory, because those are all he can have.

It's over too soon. Taekwoon's pulling up on the drivewayㅡ Hongbin's fallen asleep, and Taekwoon leans over and shakes him softly until his eyes flutter open and. 

_ Beautiful,  _ Taekwoon thinks to himself, before shaking it away.

“We're home, Cinderella,” he says, turning off the engine.

Hongbin frowns, looking strangely woeful. “Is it midnight already?”

“Mhm.”

Hongbin's eyes flicker up to Taekwoon's face, like he's searching for something, before shaking his head. “Right. Goodnight, Taek.”

“Night,” Taekwoon says, watching as Hongbin opens the backseat to piggyback a groggy Areum out of the car and into the house. Hongbin waves at him one last time from the front steps before Taekwoon drives away, and Taekwoon waves back.

* * *

“Uncle Woonie!” Areum cries as soon as he steps into the house, dressed up in a puffy blue dress and with her pretty hair done up in a pretty French braid. Taekwoon does a double take but she's already speeding towards him, and he catches her by the armpits just as she jumps. She giggles as he whirls her around.

“Down!” she squeals when he's finished, and he resists the urge to squish her cheeks.

“You're looking pretty today,” Taekwoon says as he puts her back down. He glances up at Hongbin, who's decided to join them. He looks pretty dressed up too. Taekwoon raises an eyebrow. “What's the occasion?”

Hongbin shrugs. “Nothing. She just wants to go to the amusement park today.”

“Amusement park!” Areum says excitedly.

Taekwoon stares. “Then what am I doing here?”

Hongbin rolls his eyes and punches Taekwoon lightly on the shoulder. “You're coming with us, of course.”

And that's how Taekwoon finds himself walking through an amusement park half an hour later, Areum between him and Hongbin as she held both of their hands, occasionally letting go to point at a particular ride.

“You're too young for the roller coaster, Princess,” Hongbin says more than once, trying not to falter in the face of Areum's puppy eyes. “Maybe the carousel instead?”

So they end up getting tickets for the carousel, Hongbin hoisting Areum up on the horse she'd chosen. She's grinning widely, hands wrapped tight around the safety pole, and Hongbin is quick to snap a picture. Or a dozen, Taekwoon's sure.

“Are you sure you don't want to ride?” Taekwoon asks him. 

Hongbin shakes his head, holding his camera up. “I want to take lots of pictures anyway.”

Areum points to the bouncy ball pool thing next, but only kids are allowed, so Taekwoon and Hongbin sit at a nearby bench and watch Areum jumps and bounces to her heart's desire. There's a content smile on Hongbin's face as he watches her, and occasionally he brings him camera up to take pictures.

Taekwoon is overly aware of the way Hongbin's hand is just inches apart from his on the bench, and part of him wants to put his own hand over it, to curl their fingers again and find out if they still slot perfectly together like they used to.

But then it's time's up for Areum and she's already getting out of the little netted pool, worn out and making grabby hands at them. “Ice cream,” she whines.

“Alright,” Hongbin says, “We’ll get you ice cream.”

Areum's tired out, so Taekwoon carries her piggyback as they walk around the park looking for an ice cream place. Hongbin's next to him, close enough that Taekwoon can grab his hand, but there's a gentle air between them as well as easy conversation spoken in hushed tones that Taekwoon doesn't want to ruin.

“I want a stuffie,” Areum mumbles, pointing at a random direction. “That stuffie!”

She's pointing at a gigantic Stitch plushie that's bigger than her, one of the prizes at a little shooting game. Hongbin sighs fondly. “I'll get it. You guys find some ice cream.”

Taekwoon watches him march up to the booth before Areum tugs at his hair, as if reminding him that he still needs to buy her ice cream. He laughs softly and nods and goes on with his mission.

They find a nice little ice cream parlor at the edges of the park. A little bell jingles overhead when they walk in, Areum already on her feet. It's a cozy little place, mostly pastel colors with soft pop music playing from the speakers. It isn't crowded either, which is good. Taekwoon walks over to the counter, where the tired cashier looks up and asks, “What can I get you, sir?”

“What do you want?” he asks Areum, who tugs at his hand and points at the strawberry ice cream in response.

So he buys strawberry for Areum and chocolate for Hongbin and himself. When they get back to where they'd left Hongbin at, Areum happily eating from her cone and Taekwoon's ice cream still mostly intact though beginning to melt, they find a scared child and an angry mother and Hongbin with his arms protectively wrapped around the enormous Stitch, while the owner of the booth fruitlessly tries to play peacekeeper.

Taekwoon sighs.

“I won this fair and square,” Hongbin scowls.

“What's a grown man even going to do with that?” the mother shrieks, indignant hands on her hips.

“Iㅡ” he starts to say, before noticing that Taekwoon and Areum are back. His face softens. Taekwoon feels the butterflies begin again, an unconscious smile spreading across his lips. ”You're back.”

Taekwoon hands him his ice cream cone, and Hongbin hands him the giant toy. “You terrorized a child.”

“Semantics,” Hongbin says, flashing his shark smile at the woman who only huffs and storms off, her kid in tow. Areum makes grabby hands at the toy, making a small “oof” sound when she realizes it's too big for her. And then they're on their way again.

* * *

“You're good parents,” says the lady selling tickets for yet another shooting game.

Taekwoon's face goes up in flames. Hongbin sputters, shaking his head. “You're mistaken, we're notㅡ”

“Oh,” says the lady, flushing in embarrassment. “Oh my God, I'm sorryㅡ”

“It's fine,” Hongbin says as Taekwoon desperately prays for the floor to open up and swallow him. The words stay with him for the rest of the night, and judging by the way Hongbin's gone quiet, it doesn't seem to have left his mind as well.

* * *

It's late by the time they get back to Hongbin's, and by then the awkward quiet that has stretched between them makes it feel like they've gone back to square one all over again. Hongbin doesn't talk much after That weird little conversation with the dart lady, and says nothing the entire ride home, but Taekwoon can't even blame him. He doesn't know what to say either.

Still, Hongbin follows as Taekwoon carries Areum up to her bedroom, and they both tuck her in, working around each other like clockwork.

Later they're both sitting on the couch, the TV playing out a movie Taekwoon doesn't know, but neither of them are paying attention. Taekwoon hates the quiet that's settled between them, hates the way their easy camaraderie has shattered with just three simple words. Hates the way Hongbin's retreated to himself and the way Taekwoon's too afraid to try and draw him out.

“I was so scared,” Hongbin saysㅡ the first words he'd said to Taekwoon in a few hours. Taekwoon turns to look at him, but Hongbin isn't looking back, instead staring intently at the television. “When I had her. I was so scared.”

Taekwoon doesn't say anything.

“I was whatㅡ twenty-two and dumb and stupid?” Hongbin barks out a laugh, but it's empty, mirthless, and the sound of it makes Taekwoon's chest twists. “And she's the light of my life and I don't regret it but sometimes I'm still so scared.”

Taekwoon's mouth is dry and his lungs are empty and his heart is pounding fortissimo. He doesn't know how he finds his voice.

“Scared of what?”

Hongbin shrugs. “Myself. Things I could do. Things I couldn't.”

“And then this happened,” Hongbin continues. He's smiling but it's small and bitter and  _ wrong  _ that it may as well have been a sneer. “And I think it's been good but I'm still so scared.”

He looks up at Taekwoon, his eyes sparkling with tears and his face pink with flush, and Taekwoon wonders when they’d gotten so close. When had Hongbin managed to lean in and trap Taekwoon with his gaze and with his hands on Taekwoon's like he'd been wanting to do all night. Hongbin's nearly a breath away. There are knots in Taekwoon's stomach and there are butterflies in his chest and he leans in and kisses Hongbin.

Hongbin makes a small noise but then he's kissing back, tooㅡ his lips are so soft and so sweet and fit with Taekwoon's so well, and Taekwoon can taste the faded echoes of longing on them. He lets his eyelids slip shut and lets his free hand wander up to Hongbin's neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

And when he pulls back it feels like eternity and it feels like a single moment.

He looks Hongbin in the eyes, searching, but all he sees are blown pupils and cheeks wet with tears and kiss-swollen lips and Taekwoon wants to kiss all of them away, kiss Hongbin until they're tired, kiss Hongbin until they wake in each other's arms to a morning where everything is okay.

But Taekwoon is a coward. Taekwoon is a coward and he's weak and he's done the one thing he'd promised himself he wouldn't do.

Taekwoon thinks he has to go.

“I think I have to go,” he echoes.

Hongbin's eyes widen and his bottom lip quivers but he doesn't tell Taekwoon to stay.

And so he goes.

* * *

Radio silence.

That’s what follows right after. Taekwoon feels like he’s been caught in static, trapped in time, where nothing happens but he wakes up every morning anyway to merely exist. He goes to his classes and teaches and if the students notice anything off with him they keep his mouths shut. Then he traps himself in his apartment and writes ballads and plays the piano and thinks about nostalgia, about sun-bright smiles and 

He writes about hurting and falling in love, and he writes about yearning for something he’s too scared he might shatter. He writes about stormy nights and warm blankets, and sunny days and flowers.

He stares at his phone screen a lot, hands hovering over the keys, typing out messages that he always ends up deleting.

And Taekwoon—

Taekwoon misses him. Taekwoon misses Hongbin, and misses Areum, and misses everything they could’ve been, and yet—

The days pass and Taekwoon doesn’t look for Hongbin.

But it’s fine, because Hongbin doesn’t look for Taekwoon either.

* * *

Taekwoon wakes up to a weight on his chest. He squirms, opening his eyes and peeking out from under the blankets.

Jaehwan’s sitting on him. Taekwoon groans, throwing the covers away from his face. He’d fallen asleep on the couch again, sheet music spilled all over his coffee table and composition notebooks scattered on the floor. What a mess. He’ll have to clean up.

But first, Jaehwan. Taekwoon glares at him. “What are you doing in my apartment.”

“I’m here to drag you out,” Jaehwann huffs, and Taekwoon regrets giving him and Hakyeon spare keys. He tries pushing him away but Jaehwan doesn’t budge.

“I get out plenty,” he mutters.

“Yeah, but when did you last get out that wasn’t for class?” Jaehwan says, finally getting off of him, only to sit on the floor. He’s taken a cushion and put it on his lap, placing his elbows on it as he leans forward. “This can’t be healthy.”

It isn’t healthy, Taekwoon knows. He’s acting like a sulking child. But he can’t help it. All he wants to do is hole himself up in his bedroom and go to sleep and never wake up again, because when he’s awake all he can think of is Hongbin. Of the sun in his eyes, the fleeting taste of chocolate on his lips when they’d kissed, of the dimples on his cheeks and his wind-wiper laugh rattling Taekwoon’s core.

“I miss him,” Taekwoon mutters.

Jaehwan sighs. “Then stop moping around and do something about it.”

Taekwoon whips his head up to glare at him. Jaehwan’s talking like it’s so easy. Jaehwan only stares back, the look on his face just as stubborn as Taekwoon’s. “You’re obviously stuck on him,” Jaehwan says, crossing his arms over his chest. Taekwoon really, really regrets giving him those spare keys. “You can’t hole yourself up in here forever.”

Taekwoon thinks he very much can.

“I mean, look at this place,” Jaehwan cries, gesturing around him. “Look at you, hyung! It’s a mess. You’re a mess.”

“I’m always a mess,” Taekwoon says, not budging. “Hongbin and I are never going to work. We just— need to learn to let each other go.”

Saying those words hurt as much as they had seven years ago. Taekwoon can feel the tears slowly rising, can feel the way his heart begins its slow descent into self-deterioration, and he clenches his jaw and balls his hands into fists and looks away from Jaehwan, looks at a patch of paint on the wall.

“Taekwoon,” Jaehwan says,his voice the softest Taekwoon’s ever heard it, “Bullshit.”

Taekwoon squeezes his eyes shut, because he knows it’s true.

He knows— thinking about Lion King and amusement parks and stealing glances on quiet movie nights or after tucking Areum in. He knows, thinking about the way Areum lights up like a Christmas tree, thinking about the way Hongbin smiles at him over dinner or makes jabs at him or gingerly passes a whiny child over for him to hold when his arms get tired. But the damage has been done, he thinks, and there’s nowhere else to turn to now.

“I’ve seen how you look at him, when we hang out,” Jaehwan says, into the quiet of the room, and Taekwoon thinks about it— of the two of them gravitating towards each other on the few occasions that the six of them are together again. “I’ve seen how you smile when you think about him. I’ve seen how he looks at you.”

“Jaehwan,” Taekwoon says.

“So stop being a dumbass, hyung,” Jaehwan sighs, standing up. “And call him, Jesus Christ.”

* * *

Halfway through the drive to Hongbin’s house, it begins to rain.

It had been sunny, earlier, and Taekwoon hadn’t had the foresight to bring an umbrella, so when he gets out of the car he’s immediately soaked. The cold seeps down to his bones and he brings his arms up to wrap around himself as he trudges toward the front door, but Taekwoon doesn’t care.

He texts Hongbin;  _ Come out. _

Hongbin comes running out not even minutes later, in a jacket with an umbrella in his hands. “Are you fucking insane,” he hisses when he reaches Taekwoon, opening the umbrella up above them— though it doesn’t do much. The two of them are already wet.

Hongbin’s eyes are ablaze— with anger, Taekwoon thinks. With frustration. Heartbreak. “It’s raining like hell, Taek, what are you even doing here?”

“I’m a coward,” Taekwoon blurts. Hongbin snorts. He looks like he’s about to say something, but the look on Taekwoon’s face must be so pitiful and pathetic that he reins it in. Taekwoon thinks it would probably be better if Hongbin just yelled at him, just screamed and shouted and cried, but Hongbin does none of that. He’s only staring at Taekwoon, his expression turned stony as he waits for Taekwoon to say more. “I’ve been— thinking. A lot. I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

Hongbin looks away. Taekwoon ignores the way such a simple action makes his heart shatter. 

“Why did you leave?”

“I was scared,” Taekwoon admits, his eyes on the ground. “I thought I ruined it again.”

“Damn fucking right you did,” Hongbin says, and Taekwoon winces.

“I was scared too,” Hongbin mutters, his grip around the umbrella turning pale. “I was so terrified when I saw you again— when I realized how much I missed you, I—” he laughs but it’s miserable and hollow. His hands are trembling, and Taekwoon wants nothing more than to hold them tight until the tremors stop but he doesn’t, too scared Hongbin might shy away again, put his defenses up. “I was so scared of letting you in again. And then Areum got so attached to you and I couldn’t say no and I missed you so much and it still hurts—”

“I’m sorry—”

“No, stop,” Hongbin snaps, jerking away. He takes a deep breath, his head ducked, his wet bangs hiding his expression away but the tremble in his frame telling Taekwoon everything that needed to be said. “I— for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. For the first time around. And for not telling you straight.”

“I think we need to talk,” Taekwoon murmurs.

Hongbin snickers. “No shit.”

They stand there in the rain, soaked to the bone and looking at anywhere but each other and it feels like time has stopped, once again. It feels like it’s just the two of them and the endless rain, waiting for the sunshine to break through. Taekwoon raises his head, slow and hesitant, and asks, “Do you think we could start over again? Properly, this time.”

Hongbin raises his head too, until he and Taekwoon are looking each other in the eyes. Until Taekwoon can see everything Hongbin doesn’t have to hide anymore, can search Hongbin’s soul and find the vulnerability and the longing and the hesitant flashes of hope he’s sure is reflected in his own.

“I think I’d like that,” he says, and his voice though soft rings loud and clear over the pouring rain.

And it feels like they’ve gone full circle.

Here, standing drenched in the middle of the rain, Taekwoon thinks he can finally breathe again.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments would be cool ahah... 👉👈


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